The Sitter
by Umeko
Summary: On a bet with Isaak, Dietrich finds himself babysitting.
1. The Sitter Cometh

Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters DO NOT belong to me. Strictly speaking, I am not sure whether my characters can even be considered canon. Beware of OOC-ness.

I have been away from this fandom for a while. Hope I am not too rusty. After the little success of stuffing Hugue and team in dresses, here is one from the Rozenkruez Orden. Rated for suggestive talk from Isaak and Dietrich. This is inspired by RCO Radio Hour.

**The Sitter - The Sitter Cometh **

"The problem with you, Dietrich, is that you cannot be trusted to carry out a simple mission without making a mess of it." A fifth cigarillo was stubbed in the ashtray. "How the hell did you end up in a gay brothel in Venice?"

"I ran out of cash," the brown-haired youth crossed his legs defiantly. "Told you I needed more…"

"To fritter away at the casino? You steal my wine, cologne and books whenever the chance presents itself…" Isaak slid out from behind his oak desk and advanced on his protégé. "Don't imagine for a minute that I cannot smell you in my study…" He bent down and pressed his nose into those soft brown locks he was so fond of. Yes, it was his scent alright. _Eau de Temptation_ by that exclusive perfumer he patronized. Ill at ease, Dietrich pushed weakly against his chest, a reminder of a mere Terran's physical weakness in the face of a Methuselah.

"I have a little proposition for you," Isaak purred, still holding Dietrich's head against his chest. "What? The bed, bath or over the desk right now?" the Terran murmured. "Do you wish to spank me as well?"

"Nothing so vulgar. Just a small mission for you to carry out. A little challenge. I bet you can't last one night without messing up… Babysitting the Duchess of Crimea's twin sons while I accompany the lady to an opera. No wires allowed. If it weren't for your brains and your wires, you are nobody."

"What? That's it? If I carry it off, Isaak, would you be so kind as to serve tea at the next Orden meeting in drag?" Dietrich smirked evilly. He bet Isaak's long silky tresses would go with a dress.

"Deal it is. If you mess up, you will dress as a Bavarian barmaid and serve tea at the next meeting," Isaak patted Dietrich on the head.

* * *

_The Duchess of Crimea's residence…_

In the rose garden, a brown-haired boy kicked a ball around. His blue eyes peered upwards occasionally. Finally, he could not keep silent further.

"Ivan, what's up?" Dimitri Flamevogel called out to his elder twin who was perched precariously on a high branch. "Mother's suitor number 54," Ivan smirked. "Tall, thin, pale man with long black hair like a woman's and no imperial title to his name. Inviting Mother to tonight's opening night of _Lohengrin_. Not a chance with Mother, I say."

"Nah, mother wouldn't leave us home alone, will she? Not after we set fire to the greenhouse," Dimitri aimed a kick in the direction of the final resting place of their Automaid Nanny. Firecrackers do have a damaging effect on circuits.

"Natasha, dear, I understand that due to unforeseen circumstances you are a little understaffed in your household," Isaak bowed charmingly. The Duchess Natasha was not too impressed though. "Cut the mindless civilities, von Kampfer. I simply can't go to the opera this evening with you because I must keep an eye on my little darlings…" She turned away and promptly popped a vein at the sight of her son hanging from the tree by his arms. She opened the window and…

"Ivan or Dimitri! How many times must I absolutely forbid you from climbing the elm tree? You are so totally grounded, young man!"

Ivan released his grip on the branch and fell ten metres onto his twin below. "Run for it!" The duo made a mad dash for the garden maze.

"My, my, they can be quite a handful…" Isaak chuckled. Maybe he would win his bet with Dietrich sooner that he thought.

* * *

"A Terran babysitter! Mother set us up with a Terran!" Dimitri complained as he pored over the 167th page of his homework. "No knifes, axes or guns. Phooey. Terrans are too fragile… Remember the time that Radu what's-his-name babysat?"

"Yeah, that little booby-trap we set up on the grand stairs nearly sliced him clean through at the waist. Took him the whole evening to recover…" Ivan dipped his quill into the inkwell and practised his calligraphy.

"What we did to Radu was a bit excessive, don't you think? I mean, he does let us stay up late to watch the scary movies…" Dimitri started work on page 168. "But that Asta-witch is too smart for us… Thank goodness she's away for a while. She let us play with her pet tigress, or rather, let her tigress play with us."

"You have to admit tiger-riding can be very challenging," Ivan scratched his head in frustration as he accidentally made an inkblot on his homework.

DING-Dong! "I do believe our sitter is here. Come on, let's be on our best behaviour," Ivan licked his fingers and slicked back his brown hair. Dimitri straightened his tie. The pair waited. The duchess stepped into the pair's schoolroom with a youth.

"Boys, this is Dexter Butler," the lady introduced. "This is Ivan and this is Dimitri." She paused to pat her elegant coif and rearrange a stray ribbon in her do. "You boys play nice, okay? No television or video games till after your homework, all of it. Then only 1 hour of TV or videogames max. Dinner will be served at seven. No dessert if you do not finish your greens. No snacks allowed. Bedtime is at nine-thirty. Bath must be taken before bedtime. No staying up late for the horror shows…" Both boys started yawning. It was the same lecture every time.

"Are you listening?" The duchess whacked both her sons on the head with her ivory fan. "Yes, Madre…"

Dietrich smirked, not believing his luck. The children looked like that type who would spend the evening doing their homework and obeying Mama's instructions to the letter.

They were identical, with the same light brown hair as their mother, and the same ice-blue eyes. Dietrich guessed their ages to be between ten and twelve. They were slender, with a natural poise that marked them as imperial nobility of high status. They were clad in identical white shirts, breeches and vests. A sign of their parent's perchance for Western fashion instead of Byzantium wear. More importantly, neither of them have the fangs all Methuselah sprout on their turning.

"Well, now, play nice with him. No violent games like you play with Radu… I would expect Herr Kampfer to send me back by midnight," the duchess gave her sons each a peck on the forehead. She turned to Dietrich. "Butler, if anything crops up, you can reach me at this cell number…" she handed a piece of paper to the babysitter.

"Enjoy your dinner, Mother," Ivan rubbed his forehead where he had been kissed. "Enjoy the opera," Dimitri returned his mother's kiss with one on the back of her gloved hand in mimicry of the court etiquette they had observed with regards to their elders.

"See you then…" the haughty duchess lifted her trailing skirts and glided out of the room. She missed the conspiring looks the twins exchanged. Dietrich did not. He caught the glint of potential mischief in those bright blue eyes and wondered what he had gotten himself into. The duchess paused to give some last minute instructions to the Automaid cook before leaving in the grand carriage with Isaak.

* * *

_Arabian Nights Den a.k.a. illegal brothel, Byzantinum _

Radu Barvon was celebrating his new appointment in the imperial court in the company of a frisky pair of Terran fillies when he was rudely interrupted by his cell phone's ringing. "Hello, Baron of Luxor, Radu…" he drawled, trying to ignore the sensual dance moves of one of the said fillies in his lap.

"_Cut the crap, Barvon. What can you tell me about babysitting the Flamevogel twins?"_ It was Dietrich from the Orden.

"Those brats from hell? Why? Has Herr Isaak volunteered you as their babysitter? I'm kinda busy now…" Radu goggled at those generous boobs bouncing before his face when the lap-dancer stripped off her skimpy bra. Her partner was doing a titillating striptease on the bed.

"_Never mind that!"_

"I would recommend you use those wires of yours to tie them up or something… Goodbye!" Radu hung up. "Ready or not, ladies, here I come!" The ladies squealed as the eager baron joined the party. On hearing the dial tone, Dietrich swore to yank out the baron's innards with a silver meat hook.

**Author's Notes:**

I have brought back the twins from hell. I am making some big assumptions here that televisions, cell phones and video games are existent in the Trinity Blood universe. Will Dietrich prevail? Or will the twins make a monkey out of him? Will Isaak have the pleasure of seeing Dietrich in drag?


	2. Babes in the Wood, Not

Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters DO NOT belong to me. Strictly speaking, I am not sure whether my characters can even be considered canon. Beware of OOC-ness.

**The Sitter – Babes in the Woods, Not**

Dietrich glanced at the elaborate cuckoo clock in the main hall. Half-past six. Dinner in half an hour, he mused. He had left the boys in the study to do their homework. Curious, he peeked into the dining hall where the Automaids were busy setting the table. It was a classical long dinner table, topped with gilt candlesticks, pewter and fine china dinnerware. He sauntered over to the French windows overlooking the rose garden. The perfume of roses filled the air. He relaxed enough settle on a settee in the lounge.

"Maid, a cuppa tea if you please…" he beckoned to a nearby Automaid. The robotic servant bowed and left. A few moments later, it was back with a tea tray. Dietrich smirked at the mental picture of the proud Panzer Magier dressed in a maid's uniform, complete with lace apron and cap, holding a tea tray. He picked up a china teacup and held it up for the robot to pour him a cuppa. The Automaid obliged.

Dietrich sniffed at his tea. It was a thick black tea which smelled strongly of cinnamon. Tentatively, he sipped his tea and immediately began choking.

"I guess you do not like Mother's spiced tea," one of the twins called out. "Cinnamon, apple, nutmeg and a touch of pepper…" Both boys were coming down the grand staircase. The Automaid greeted them with a bow. "Well done, A12X," Dimitri took the teapot from the tray. He emptied the dubious contents out of the open window.

"You little imps…" Dietrich coughed. In addition to cinnamon, it tasted of chilli, wasabi and pepper. He fought the urge to throttle the grinning boys.

The clock struck the hour. Seven o'clock. Dinner time.

* * *

Isaak stifled the urge to yawn. _Lohengrin _was never one of his favourite operas, but it was the good Duchess'. "I do hope my boys are behaving…" she whispered and fanned herself. Isaak admired the way her diamond earrings caught the light, the way her eyes seemed to glow with childish delight. He had to admit that she was a handsome female. She nibbled daintily at the fluffy tarts that the opera house offered their audience as light refreshment before the curtain call.

Nearby, the young Methuselah woman tried in vain to escape the over-anxious attempts of her mother to introduce her to a potential suitor. "Duchess of Caspia," Duchess Natasha called out. The older woman paused. Her daughter made full use of her mother's lull in attention to slip through the crowd like a silvery trout through a stream. With a swish of her violet skirt, she was gone.

Isaak patiently waited as both duchesses chattered on the mundane topic of their offspring and court fashion.

"I really hope my Asta would get over Reniya… I do wish to have grandchildren…" the older duchess dabbed at her brow with a lacy handkerchief.

"Children will always worry their parents. I worry about my boys, how would they do without a father to look up to? My last husband has been missing a year…" Natasha sipped at her wine.

"Tragic, isn't it? Still, he was a lot younger compared to the others before. I do suppose you could apply for a divorce in absentia on grounds of abandonment."

"I have no idea how he could just leave me…" Natasha smirked secretly behind her fan. Poor Mikael was getting a bit dull for her taste when he went. She was looking for a new father for her boys. Suleyman showed tremendous promise as a duke. His position should be able to secure the twin's future in the imperial court. As to the aspect of sex… Natasha cast a glance in Isaak's direction. It has been a while since she got with a man. The Duke of Tigris was a bore in that aspect and having an affair with a fellow noble was fraught with political danger. She would prefer a short-term lover with no rank…

* * *

Dietrich found himself seated at the head of the table, with the twins on either side of him. Soup was a warm borsch topped with a rich sour cream and served with crusts of white bread. The main course was beef Stroganov. The salad was made of diced potatoes, pickles, olive, hard-boiled eggs and peas smothered in mayonnaise, lots of peas. Dietrich sipped his soup cautiously, and was pleased to find it delicious. Lucky for him the brats had not tampered with dinner. Dietrich found the meal to be enjoyable and quiet.

The meal passed without incident. Dessert was wheeled in on a trolley, fruit and chocolate fondue. Dietrich stared at the sheer frivolity of the gurgling chocolate fountain which had three tiers which separately spouted dark, milk and white chocolate. The fountain even played a twinkling melody. With squeals of delight, the boys skewered diced melon, strawberries and grapes before dipping them into the chocolate. Dietrich was intrigued by the workings of the fountain. It was a complex machine with three separate piping systems for each type of liquid chocolate. Under the pretext of dipping a melon kebab in dark chocolate, he took a closer look.

Ivan and Dimitri exchanged glances. With a combined heave, they tipped the fountain over, splashing warm chocolate all over their hapless sitter.

"Sorry, are you hurt?" Dimitri extended a hand to Dietrich as he crawled out from the overturned fountain. "Shut up. It's your fault, isn't it?" Dietrich growled. If it weren't for the bet, he would have strangled the brats with his wires for this. Sticky chocolate stained his hair and clothes. Some of it even ran down his collar. He was a mess.

"You may use our bath to clean up, I am sure we could get some clean clothes for you while our servants clean yours up," Dimitri offered. Dietrich smacked him over the head while Ivan slipped off to prepare the bath.

The Flamevogel mansion's bath was a large Turkish-styled one, with a large pool of warm water laced with bath salts. Ivan slipped in through the gem-studded double doors of the bathroom. In his hands, he held a large jar. Grinning impishly, he emptied its contents into the bath. He was back in the dining room when Dietrich ordered both boys back to their study. Winking secretly at each other, they complied.

The minute the study door was locked from the outside, Dimitri turned to his twin. "So, what's tonight's special? Alligator-snapper? Sea snake?" he whispered. Ivan pulled him in close to whisper into his ear. "Better… Transylvanian leeches. The sort that gets very active in warm water and gives a nasty bite…"

The boys high-fived each other. Crawling on their hands and knees, they yanked open a wooden panel from the wall. Reaching behind the panel, Dimitri found the lever. With a soft rumble, part of the bookcase slid into the wall to reveal a secret passage, through which the Flamevogels made their escape.

* * *

After the chocolate debacle and confining both brats to their study, Dietrich entered the bath. "Not bad at all," Dietrich purred as he settled back in the water. The bath smelled of roses. An Automaid had taken his chocolate-stained garments at the door and presented him with a towel and bathrobe. With a contented sigh, Dietrich closed his eyes, intent to enjoy himself in the bath until he started to prune.

The first bite was like a bee-sting. Dietrich jumped. His toe hurt. Something dark and worm-like was clinging to his big toe. Puzzled, he lifted his leg up for a look, which unfortunately for him, exposed more sensitive parts of his anatomy for attack. The next attack came en masse.

Listening at the door, the twins were delighted to hear screams of pain coming from within. Eagerly, they peeked in through the large old-fashioned keyhole. Their sitter was on his hands and knees at the edge of the bathing pool. Greedy leeches clung to his legs, buttocks and particularly the region of his groin. Dietrich stood up and tried to yank the offending critters off his body. The pain from their jaws sinking into flesh was pure agony. Their bodies were too slippery for him to get a good grip. To his alarm the skin surrounding the leeches' mouths were turning an unpleasant shade of purple.

He stumbled over to where he had left his cell phone and dialled a number. Isaak's cell phone was off. Dietrich cursed. Isaak must have seen fit to obey the civilities of the opera house like the opera fan he was by switching off his phone. Dietrich dialled Radu's number.

"You have reached Baron Radu Barvon of Luxor…" Radu answered with a yawn. He was curled up in bed between two buxom beauties.

_"Radu, would you know how to remove some of your local wildlife?"_

"What wildlife? Tiger, bear, wolf…"

_"Leeches. Weird black leeches with a nasty bite and whitish spots…"_

"Those are Transylvanian leeches, I believe… Have you considered amputation?" Radu yawned. He was feeling in the mood for a second round with the brunette on his right. She did not protest when he pressed his body against hers.

* * *

"What!?" Dietrich stole a glance at his very sore genitals where half-dozen of the little monsters were greedily feeding. "You have anything that doesn't involve loss of body parts?"

_"You could try freezing them off with ice… oh crap!"_ A commotion erupted as armed members of the Imperial anti-vice unit kicked in the door of the room Radu was in. Pandemonium broke out as prostitutes and their clients were arrested in the building.

_Ice?_ Dietrich frowned. He did not fancy sitting in an ice bucket. Finally he turned to a nearby Automaid. "A large bucket of ice, please…" Those little brats were really starting to piss him off.

**Author's Notes:**

Spicy tea, chocolate messes and leeches. Any more suggestions for pranks?


	3. Revenge of the Sitter?

Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters DO NOT belong to me. Strictly speaking, I am not sure whether my characters can even be considered canon. Beware of OOC-ness.

I guess you readers never annoyed your babysitters with pranks or such nonsense, do you?

**The Sitter – Revenge of the Sitter?**

In the den, both Ivan and Dimitri were sprawled over bear skin rug, slugging it out in Mortal Kombat 3. "Do you think he has gotten those leeches off by now?" Dimitri asked as his fighter ripped out the beating heart of Ivan's fighter in the extremely violent video game which their mother explicitly forbidden them to play. 'GAME OVER' flashed on the large plasma screen. Ivan flung his joystick away in disgust.

"Maybe," Ivan said. "I left something extra in the baths though."

* * *

Nine o'clock. Dietrich finally emerged from large tin tub of ice, teeth chattering. It had taken a while for those bleeding leeches to drop off and he was dizzy from blood loss. Those little imps are so going to pay. His cold-numbed brain fumbled over how to repay the twins for their hospitality. He seized a fluffy towel and rubbed his frozen body vigorously. _Where were his clothes?_ A burly-looking Automaid approached him.

"Allow me to dress you, sir," she said in a mechanical voice and held up a set of clothes which were definitely not his.

"Wait, lemme go! _Hilfe_!" Dietrich screamed bloody murder as he was forced into the clothes by the robot who refused to take no for an answer. Too bad his wires do not work on inorganic entities like Automaids.

* * *

Ivan fancied he heard Dietrich's screams distantly. He glanced about the opera house. "Is something wrong, Isaak dear?" the duchess asked. Isaak smiled and shook his head as she traced the line of his jaw with one ebony-nailed fingertip.

"You look wan… if you're tired, I know a private little place near here we could rest at…" she purred and tapped his cheek lightly with her fan. The gleam in her eye hinted that rest was the last thing on her mind. Isaak stole a glance at her ample bosom, which almost seemed to be bursting from the bodice of her dress. Isaak swallowed and raised his wine glass to his lips, allowing himself a tiny sip of the expensive wine.

It was a robust rose from the valleys of the distant nation of Argentine. The imperial nobles really knew how to live it up. Isaak reflected regretfully that his own wine cellar was pitifully stocked compared to the duchess'. The duchess rested her hand on his knee gently. "Isaak, I'm sure you must have seen lots of interesting things, being so well-travelled… I'll love to hear more of your tales," she pouted and batted her long eyelashes coquettishly.

The bell rang for the next act of the opera. "After the show, my lady. I'll love to entertain you with tales from my travels over dinner," Isaak patted her hand, sending a blush to the noblewoman's cheeks. She was comely enough a distraction for the night, Isaak thought. Besides, the longer he left Dietrich in the company of those two imps, the higher the probability of humiliating Dietrich before the Orden at the next meeting.

* * *

"You little rats!" Dietrich burst into the den. The twins chuckled at the sight he presented. Their hapless sitter was clad in a maid's uniform, complete with lace apron and cap.

"No more Mister Nice Guy!" Dietrich roared and ripped the cap off his head. He stormed over to the boys.

"Mister Dexter, I didn't know you were into cross-dressing. Whatever will Mama say?" Dimitri exclaimed in wide-eyed mock innocence. Dietrich seized him by the wrist. He would use his wires. Just as long as Isaak doesn't find out, he was not going to wear a dress at the Orden's monthly meeting.

"Okay, Ivan or Dim-whatever, I am going to do some magic. First, sit!" Dietrich ordered. Despite trying his utmost to disobey, Dimitri found himself actually sitting on the bearskin rug. He writhed, trying to free himself from the unseen bonds that held him captive.

"Now where's the other one?" Dietrich scanned the dimly-lit room. Ivan had vanished. "Never mind, then, I will deal with your brother later," Dietrich fished out a handful of clothes pegs from the apron's pockets. "Now, where shall we place these? On your ears? Nose?" The boy yelped in pain as clothes pegs pinched his skin.

Dietrich noticed a large hulking shape in the doorway. A low growl emitted from it. "Boris hates it when his master is in pain," Ivan patted the grizzly's head fondly. "Don't you, Boris?"

Dietrich backed away cautiously as the boy and the bear advanced. The lapse in attention was sufficient for Dimitri to tear himself free. Tearing off the pegs, he gave a simple command. "Attack."

The bear immediately obliged. Dietrich screamed as the large bear sat on top of him. Ivan gleefully whipped out a camera. "Another one for the trophy room!"

How nice this picture would look in their collection of tormented sitters, tutors and governesses. Trapped under the bear, Dietrich was certain the bear's weight must have crushed his spine. He couldn't feel his limbs. To add insult to injury, the beast was licking and nibbling at his head like he was a favourite chew toy.

"Here's the deal, you agree to our conditions and we call Boris off," Ivan said. "First, we get to play video games and watch TV while you do our Germanic homework. I'm sure that despite your Albionian name, you are fluent in that language, seeing you were cursing in Germanic back in the bath."

Dietrich groaned. "Can I get my clothes back?"

"Not yet, Butler. Our servant is still washing them and sadly, those clothes you are wearing now are the only ones we have in your size here," Ivan apologized. "Unless, of course, you would prefer Mama's nightgowns." Dimitri burst out into a peal of laughter.

"You win," Dietrich grated. Once the bear's gone, he would have his revenge on them…

"Up, Boris!" The bear lifted his bulk off the babysitter and Dietrich wriggled his fingers and toes, glad that the feeling had returned to them. Dimitri led the bear out of the den.

"Here you go, Butler, we expect straight As…" Ivan dropped a stack of Germanic homework books and texts on Dietrich's back. Grinning in pleasure at the sharp yelp of pain he elicited from their bedraggled sitter.

* * *

The opera had not yet ended, but both the duchess and Isaak were hungry, not for food or blood, but for something else. "The usual room," the duchess tossed a gold coin to the owner of the sleazy motel near the opera house as her companion carried her over the threshold bridal-style. "Would you like some refreshment, madam?" the sleepy-eyed Terran crone asked cautiously. The raid on the illegal brothel across town had not gone unnoticed and she was wary of a possible raid on her place.

"Naturally. Red wine and raw oysters…" she giggled and whispered into Isaak's ear. "They say oysters make men virile and women fertile… I do wonder if I will give my boys a little brother or sister tonight."

"Indeed," Isaak forced a grin. A fling was fine with him, but fatherhood was a definitely no-no for him since he was never any good with children. On the bright side, since they say the duchess and the Duke of Tigris were discussing marriage, Isaak wouldn't mind leaving a cuckoo's egg in that nest.

The room was tastefully-done with damask curtains and a large four-poster bed where Isaak deposited his date. The oysters were served in their shell with a slice of lemon. A bottle of red wine in an ice bucket completed the dinner. Beside the oysters was a tray of delicate little cakes made of rice rolled in seaweed. "Sushi," the duchess explained. Isaak nodded with a grin. He never expected to see such an Oriental food item in Byzantine.

"I thought the art of sushi-making and sashimi was a dying art ever since the tuna went extinct," Isaak said.

"Well, you thought wrong, will you help me get out of this?" the duchess popped an oyster into her mouth and tugged at the back of her bodice. Isaak slipped his arms around her to help her with that troublesome zipper.

**Author's Notes:**

Will Dietrich do the twins' homework? Will Isaak sire the next Flamevogel child? Is Dietrich going to spend the rest of the evening in a dress?


	4. The Hand that Rocks the Cradle

Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters DO NOT belong to me. Strictly speaking, I am not sure whether my characters can even be considered canon. Beware of OOC-ness.

Dietrich will get his back on the twins and eventually Isaak too. If he isn't careful, he may face child abuse charges.

**The Sitter – The Hand that Rocks the Cradle**

The shadows cast by the lamplight on the drapes flickered. Discarded clothing littered the carpet. The half-eaten dinner sat on the tray and the red wine was uncorked. The pair on the bed nuzzled, kissed and, well you get the point.

"Say, my lady, is there any truth to those rumours that you're betrothed to the Deputy Head of the Secret Service?" Isaak asked between passionate kissing. "Well, I am entitled to a pre-nuptial fling, aren't I?" the Duchess Natasha Flamevogel chuckled mischievously. She allowed her dinner companion to lower her onto the pillows. Isaak noted that her eyes were a startling shade of blue, However, the gleam in those eyes reminded him of someone's coffee-brown ones. The sarcastic smile on her lips resembled Dietrich's.

* * *

The Flamevogel boys were conferring in the lounge even as their mother enjoyed her little pre-nuptial fling with Isaak. The horror movie they were enjoying was a classic movie re-make of Bram Stroker's Dracula.

"We better watch this one, Ivan. He's tricky," Dimitri advised as the Count terrorised the protagonist of the late night horror movie classic.

"He's just a mere Terran," Ivan snorted dismissively. "Pass me the popcorn." Dimitri obliged. "Careful now, Butler made it. I don't trust him. He's been too nice and too quiet since…"

"Maybe that's because he's a Terran and we know all Terrans are cowards…" Ivan batted his brother playfully with a cushion. "Hush! I wanna watch the movie."

"_Nyet._ We better check on him. He's tricky…" Dimitri insisted. He slipped off the couch. Reluctantly Ivan vacated his perch and joined his brother, making their way to the study where…

They found their sitter standing before the study's fireplace, throwing scraps of paper into the flames of a roaring fire. Enough of the pieces remained on the hearth rug to tell that it was the Flamevogels' Germanic homework which fuelled the blaze.

"Argh! Our homework!" both boys screamed and ran forward to save their homework, only to find their feet stuck to the oaken floor in a pool of sticky glue the minute they stepped into the study. "Revenge is going to be so sweet…" Dietrich smirked as he took out the basket of tools he had been collecting through the house earlier. He had expected the more sensitive Dimitri to get suspicious and start checking on him.

"Dimitri, it's all your fault!" Ivan smacked his twin. "Sorry…" Dimitri shrugged. "You got us good," he admitted grudgingly. Dietrich, careful to avoid the pool of glue, shoved the twins onto their hands and knees so that they were firmly stuck by the knees of their pants. He fished out a whip from the basket and showed it to them.

"Naughty boys need to be punished, so how shall I punish you? Twenty lashes to the rear?" Dietrich raised the whip and brought it down hard on the backsides of the pair.

* * *

"What do you see in that bore anyway?" Isaak asked. His partner purred against him like a contented cat. "Well, Isaak, as much as I like adventure, I am still a mother who wants the best for her children. I know my boys can be a handful, but I don't want them to be hurt. Suleyman just happens to be the highest ranking male in the Imperial court. Perhaps we could still meet up some time," Natasha placed a dainty hand on his bare chest.

"I take it that my lady is pleased with my performance tonight?" Isaak teased. He had many lovers of both sexes, but few women as intellectually simulating as the duchess. He also detected a ruthless streak in her, no doubt where her offspring were concerned.

"My boys are charming imps. I could tell you about the time they set Mirka Fortuna's greenhouse ablaze so that my roses could take the top prize at the Byzantine Annual Garden Show, or the time they mixed itchy powder into the Yeniceri's uniform laundry…" she chuckled. No wonder she needed a high-ranking protector. "As much as I would like my boys to see the world, our roots are here in this cursed empire."

"You don't like it here?" Isaak asked. The privileges according to a duchess like Natasha Flamevogel and her family were immense. The duchess shook her head, dishevelled brown curls swinging.

"You know all this," she strolled over to the window, naked, and waved her arm over the slumbering city. "Is only an illusion. A cage…" she trailed off in a dialect that Isaak was not familiar with, lamenting or cursing her fate, he could not tell. He hoped that Dietrich did not rough up her boys too much.

* * *

"Not the itchy powder! No!" the twins howled in agony as they trashed about on the carpet. Dietrich had emptied a mixture of ground chilli powder, itchy powder and pepper into their underpants. He sat, admiring his handiwork. The boys will be too busy to annoy him now. Tearing themselves free from the carpet, leaving their shoes and the greater part of their breeches behind, the pair dashed madly for the bathroom.

Dietrich waited and was not disappointed to hear screams when the twins discovered that the bath had been drained completely. In a bath that size, it would take five hours to fill.

He dialled Isaak's number. He had not needed to use his wires on the twins since that incident earlier with Dimitri. Dimitri probably didn't know what happened to him. He wouldn't tell Isaak and Dietrich was on his way to winning the bet.

"Isaak? I hope you have a nice dress picked out for the meeting."

"Confident, aren't you?" Isaak hissed. "Darling, I'm getting impatient… it's not nice if I have to drag you to into bed!" the duchess called out from the bed. "In a minute," Isaak replied, covering the mouthpiece of his phone, but Dietrich overheard.

"Where are you and the lady, Isaak?" Dietrich pouted, feeling an odd pang. "Someplace you don't need to know," Isaak replied. "If it is of any comfort to you, I'm enjoying myself in a house of assignation with Her Ladyship. So hang up and go tell beddy-time stories to those babies…" Dietrich heard the phone go dead. Dietrich made yet another call to Barvon.

"Hey, Barvon, you know where a noblewoman would go to meet a paramour after an opera?" Dietrich asked Radu over the phone.

"Dietrich, it is not convenient now… I'm trying to negotiate a plea bargain here…" Radu Barvon hissed. He was waiting for his father in the detention cell of the local anti-vice office. Having sexual relations with a Terran was an offence which could result him losing his title. Law number 143A6 on Methuselah-Terran relations. Of course, prostitution was also illegal in Byzantine. Never mind it being the oldest trade and all. Pimps, whores and their clients are liable for a stint in the local prison.

"I hear that the Viscomtess of Odessa who blew you off is having a wild party with some boys at that place," Dietrich lied. Radu took the bait, hook, line and sinker.

* * *

_Five minutes later… _

"Open up in the name of the Empress!" the captain of the anti-vice squad kicked in the door of the motel near the opera house, scaring the old woman at the counter half to death.

"Oh dear, this could be awkward…" Duchess Natasha murmured as she gathered her garments. Isaak, was already dressing himself, said: "I believe it is time for you to return to your children's side."

With a wave of his hand, he summoned his shadow minions and opened a portal. With his free arm, he held the lady close. The duchess did not show any fear as the shadows closed around them. The anti-vice squad kicked in the door only to find the leftovers of dinner and a rumpled bed.

**Author's Notes:**

Isaak's sexual orientation? In my opinion, it's most likely bisexual. The duchess is a bit of a hussy, but at least she has her sons' best interests at heart. She needs all the help she can get keeping those two out of trouble.

In the manga, the Empire has a blanket ban on alcohol, pot, opium etc for Terrans, as well as that no Methuseah-Terran inter-marriage thing. Maybe they had a law on fornication as well. At the best, it is a nanny-state, at the worst, it is a puritan autocracy.


	5. What Little Boys are Made of

Disclaimer: Trinity Blood and its characters DO NOT belong to me. Strictly speaking, I am not sure whether my characters can even be considered canon. Beware of OOC-ness.

This chapter has some hints of the shonenai kind. This is the final chapter.

**The Sitter – What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Dietrich had cornered the boys in an upstairs shower where they had managed to scrub the noxious mix of peppers, chilli and itchy powder off their bodies. Both boys screamed blue murder as Dietrich shoved them naked into the shower closet and emptied in a pail of the same Transylvanian leeches he had been tormented with earlier. Picking up those little critters from the empty bath was a touch of foresight on his part. The boys tried climbing on top of each other to escape from the bites.

"Darlings, Mama's home! Are you still awake?" the duchess' voice rang out like a bell. Dietrich froze. He had been so engrossed in getting his revenge on the twins that he hadn't been watching the driveway. In fact, he had expected her to be out longer, even if they had escaped arrest by the anti-vice squad, given Isaak's reputed sexual appetites and stamina. Somehow things had not gone quite according to plan…

He dashed out, hoping to delay Her Ladyship. She might be furious enough to complain to Isaak about his mistreatment of her sons. And since Isaak was apparently in a relationship with her, he might be obliged to punish him.

_The lady was most likely downstairs…_ Dietrich hurried to the top of the grand staircase and immediately tripped on the length of fishing line stretched across it. He tumbled down head over heels in a flurry of lace. He was still wearing the maid's uniform after having failed to find his clothes or other suitable garments. He landed at the bottom with a thud.

He must have been out of it for a minute or so. Everything seemed hazy when he opened his eyes. He sat up with a groan and blushed crimson when he realized that both Isaak and the Duchess were looking at him. Isaak was fully-clothed, his clothes immaculately neat. A lit cigarillo dangled limply from his lips. The duchess was clad only in her jewels and undergarments, with her shoes in one hand and her gown tossed over her arm. She had not had the luxury of getting dressed before they were forced to cut short their tryst. The duchess did not seem at all bothered by the fact that the sitter was wearing a dress. Isaak's expression was inscrutable.

"Welcome home, Mother. Did you enjoy the opera?" Ivan called out a warm greeting as if having their parent return home from the opera in a state of undress was normal.

Dietrich's eyes darted to the top of the stairs where both twins stood. They were dressed in their PJs, their hair lightly damp as if they had emerged from a pre-bedtime bath. Most galling of all, the boys were unruffled and showed little sign of having suffered any mistreatment at their sitter's hands. The pair gracefully descended.

"One thing, Butler, those leeches were trained by me," Ivan whispered with a smirk, solving the puzzle of how they escaped injury.

"Mr Butler, would you mind teaching us how you use those invisible strings of yours, you know, to bind up annoying brats and stuff?" Dimitri asked innocently. Isaak's eyebrow arched and a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. _I win,_ the look he gave Dietrich said. Dietrich groaned.

"That dress suits you, Di, but you'll look better dressed as a barmaid," Isaak whispered.

* * *

_A few nights later, Isaak's study…_

"The meeting is tomorrow night," Isaak sat at his desk and addressed a blond-wigged figure clad in a Bavarian barmaid's uniform. He puffed on his cigarillo. The figure advanced, blond plaits swinging. The low scooped collar revealed delicate curves of his collarbone. A narrow waist was encased by a bodice which incongruously showed a flat chest.

"I know," Dietrich twirled the end of a blond plait with his fingers. "I want to make another deal. There's no way I am appearing in this get-up in front of Reiz and the others…"

"What kind of deal will that be, Di?" Isaak took another puff on his cigarillo before placing it in an ashtray. The boy almost flounced over to his side. "May I?"

Isaak obliged by lifting Dietrich up to sit on his desk, sweeping away his work papers as he did so. Dietrich wrapped his arms around Isaak's neck and whispered. "I'm not wearing anything under this…" His words were harshly cut off by Isaak's fierce kiss and he was forced backwards onto the table.

**Author's Notes: **

This is a short chapter to round off this fic. Any more and this will hit an M-rating.

I know this is a poor fic compared to my earlier ones, but I hope you enjoyed it.


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